Beast Mode: Headquarters
by dawnkiwi
Summary: Shawn is a girl, but she certainly doesn't act like it. Forced to move to her brothers house in LaPush, she is faced with the difficulty of being away from her clan and the challenges it creates for preparing for the Call of Duty world champs. Paul Lahote just happens to watch on from the sideline, but she's busy in beast mode. Paul/Shawn. Leah/Michael. Funny, slightly offensive.


**Beast Mode: Headquarters **

**Summery: Shawn is a girl, but she certainly doesn't act like it. Forced to move to her brothers house in LaPush, she is faced with the difficulty of being away from her clan and the challenges it creates for preparing for the Call of Duty world champs. Paul Lahote just happens to watch on from the sideline, but she's busy in beast mode. **

**IMPORTANT!: Trivia and background facts? Here we go: Shawn- obviously a boys name. Her parents wanted another boy. They may as well have one. She is from Los Angeles, is half-quiluete and half-European. **

**She is aggressive, sarcastic, rude and entirely too focused on video games. **

**She is apart of the the clan 'Motherfraggers' alongside her overzealous and socially inept, highly intense friend Aaron, the mellow and cheeky Sam, the awkward and childish Joshua and the only one who actually acts like the adult he is, Mike, an actor. **

**Paul Lahote is our well known hot-head (wink wink- okay, no, kill me, I can't believe I did that. I take that back, I feel dirty and used.) who is neighbors with Michael Turner, Shawn's elder brother. They are neither friends nor enemies. Michael is the imprint of Leah. **

**Ages: **

**Shawn - 19**

**Aaron and Sam - 24**

**Joshua - 20**

**Mike - 26**

**Michael and Leah - 22**

**Paul - 21**

**I present to you, one Beast of fanfiction. Also, questionable personalities. **

**P.S - Knowledge of Call of Duty is unnecessary. May this educate you.**

* * *

Shawn sat at a cafe table outside of Seattle International Airport, sucking Mountain Dew through a straw noisily. The woman at the next table glared at her. Shawn's eyes, unnervingly icy blue, slid sideways to glare at her. Pupils narrowed to small dots, the woman jumped.

Seated at the silver table, made of cold metal and rickety aluminum, she watched her brother approach her.

She has not seen Michael since Christmas, 18 months ago. It is August 5th, Monday. 10:33 AM.

To her icy eyes, her brother had not changed much.

"Shawn!" he exclaims with a smile as he reaches her table. He pulls up a chair and plonks himself in it, taking in her appearance. She, too, has not changed much. Wearing her customary hoody, XXL to effectively swallow her small frame, made of thick black fabric. It sits half way unzipped, allowing the scope on her blue shirt to peak through. Her hair braided back, falling down her back to her waist.

She could have been a boy if her face wasn't so feminine.

She nodded her head abruptly. "Hey," she said, her voice sharp and low.

Michael grinned at her, carefree, legs dangling over the side of the chair. He stretched his arms and sighed.

"How've you been, sis?" he asked, casting a glance at the woman beside them who was quickly packing her handbag. She looked disgusted.

Shawn shrugged and let go of the straw. "Yeah, good, you know, the usual." She watched Michael, without much of an expression. He wasn't too bothered. She had to look up at him, after all, and he didn't get that much anymore, not with Sams' pack around.

He nodded. "Yeah, that's good. How's mom and dad?"

She scowled and gripped her bottle harder. "Ingrates, the bastards."

He paused, then nodded. "Yeah, okay, should have expected that.." he muttered.

"So have you got wifi?" she asked, "Any internet? You better have fiber."

"And if I don't?"

She began to glare at him, although to say she wasn't before would be a lie. Her natural disposition was always aggressive.

"Then you will be getting it," she said slowly and clearly.

"You're paying for it," he pointed out but she just shrugged.

"I would be anyway. I need an unlimited plan."

* * *

"This is your house?" she asked harshly, slamming the door behind her. "It's so..tidy. You didn't tell me you have a girlfriend."

Michael stopped short, lingering next to the car's cooling engine, keys dangling in his hand.

"You caught on pretty quickly," he said, a little shocked. "I'm not that bad!"

"Please," she scoffed as she stepped onto the porch, turning to face him. She looked almost comical in her over-sized hoody. Like an evil genius or a sadistic child. Michael supposed that was the truth, though. "You're a pig. Besides, Sam's girlfriend goes anal over the house being clean. He's such a pussy."

Michael unlocked the door, glancing down at her. "Who's Sam?" he asked, frowning.

"A friend. A beast."

Michael jumped. She looked at him weirdly.

He rubbed the back of his head and pushed the door open. "Uh, right. So, he games with you?" he guessed as he moved back to let her in.

Relax, Michael. Games, not shifts.

She stepped into the kitchen and looked around. It was actually quite spacious, made of old wood with a round table in the middle. The bench tops were covered with white granite and above them sat black cupboards.

"Is this even your house?" was all she said.

Michael sighed. He's missed his sister. Not their parent's, just his sister.

"Yes, Shawn, it's my own house."

"And does your girlfriend live here?"

Michael stared at Shawn, as she turned to face him, her battered red converse squeaking on the floor slightly. He was more than aware that the pack would be listening in from the living room, something he should have mentioned on the four hour drive from Seattle, but right now his mind was focused on the inevitable clash of Leah and Shawn.

That is, he hoped it would be Leah and Shawn, not Leah v Shawn.

He swallowed.

"Asshat," she implored, "Does your girlfriend live here?" she asked slowly, brow furrowed.

He shrugged, shifting on his feet. "Yeah, she does. Is that a problem?"

Shawn backed off. She looked at him, head cocked to the side. "Cool." was all she said.

Michael made a noise. "Is that alright?" but her attention had already begun to wander.

"What? Yeah, of course. It's your house, dude," she said, shooting him a look. "It just seemed impossible for you to live here alone. You let the dirty dishes germinate into miniature Yoda's."

"Do not!" was Michael's instant response.

She snorted. "Yeah, okay. Lo-"

* * *

Leah POV.

When Michael told me his sister would be coming to live with us, I wasn't happy about that. Now we can't have sex anywhere but the bedroom unless she's gone, and from what I've heard, she doesn't leave the house unless it's important. Jared and Paul thought that was a real hoot, but Sam was the one who had to Alpha order me off them. Stupid pricks.

Michael said Shawn (that's a guys name, just saying) isn't the nicest of people.

_'She's not a nice person. A good person, sure, but not a nice one._'

I'm not sure if that means she's a bitch, in which case we will either get a long well or I'm going to have to go corporal punishment on her, or that she doesn't really speak or do anything but game. Which brings me to my next problem. Is she going to be sitting on her ass all day mooching off of us? Michael said-

_'Michael said! Michael said!'_ Quill mimicked all through patrol. These boys are beyond immature.

And they always hide behind Sam when I snap at them. Which is always. They just always hide.

Man up.

Michael said she would pay her own way, but I don't see how that's going to happen if all she does is sit on her ass all day and 'game'. I might not understand how you could occupy yourself with something so boring for so long, but I don't care as long as she pulls her weight.

I'm honestly expecting a ten ton whale to appear around the corner, but from what I can hear and feel, she seems tiny.

"And does your girlfriend live here?"

"Ooooh," Quill whispered, leaning closer to the door, "_It's begun~_"

"Shut the hell up!" I snapped, smacking him upside the head. He yelped and moved back down the couch, squishing Jared. I don't know why they have to sit on the couch, there's barely enough room for two, not three.

"Asshat," Shawn said, like she was trying to explain something to a toddler, "Does your girlfriend live here?" she asked slowly, pronouncing each word carefully.

I tensed. I didn't want the guys to know it, but if she hated me, it would hurt. It would hurt a lot. Only now am I on good terms with Emily, and it's all on me, because it took me that long to move past everything with..Sam and the imprinting.

And don't assume it's because I was still in love with him- that faded quickly. It was just so painful, and I wasn't even that sure why. And when Michael appeared.. it was just so much better. It helped that he wanted me to reconcile with Em.

I'm such a bitch..

There was silence from Michael and we could all feel his hesitation. I wanted to run in there and stand by his side, but he wanted to do this, and I didn't want to make things with Shawn worse. "Yeah, she does. Is that a problem?"

"Cool." was all she said. She replied immediately, and I don't _think_ she was upset, but it can be hard to tell. I caught Seth's eye and he shrugged. None of us knew how this would turn out.

Michael made a noise. "Is that alright?"

Is that alright? Why was he even asking? I mean, I know he thought Shawn might..cause problems, but why did he say it like that? He isn't worried is he? Maybe I should just go in..

"What? Yeah, of course. It's your house, dude," she said. She didn't lie. "It just seemed impossible for you to live here alone. You let the dirty dishes germinate into miniature Yoda's."

"Do not!" was Michael's instant response. I calmed down immediately. So she understood the pain of his messiness.

I decided I couldn't wait any longer and got up, ignoring Sam's quiet 'Leah! Just _wait_!' and walked through the door.

* * *

Shawn POV

I snorted. Bitch, please, my brother couldn't clean a dish to save his life. "Yeah, okay. Lo-"

There was a creak, as the door to a room Michael had neglected to show me, opened. In fact, I'm still standing in the fucking kitchen.

However, either this house is haunted (which is cool, unless it messes with the internet, in which case I will be performing an exorcism) or there is at least one other person in the house. A female, as it turned out, and possibly Michael's girlfriend.

She's taller than me, the bitch, and the same height as Michael, which is around 5"11.

Great. _This_ will interesting.

* * *

General POV

Leah stared at the short girl with an unreadable expression. Guarded, though it was, Shawn could still see the nervousness in her body. Hmm.

Michael looked her, his girlfriend, slightly surprised. "Uh, Shawn, this is Leah, my..girlfriend."

Shawn stayed silent and stared at Leah with a cocked head, slowly chewing on the inside of her cheek, eyes narrowed.

"Huh. Well, hi, surprised to meet you," came the even response. Leah would have started to sweat slightly if it weren't for the fact that she had faced more dangerous individuals, although from the sheer look of intensity on Shawn's face, she'd have to say the intimating award went to the short girl.

Leah's jaw clenched. "Yeah, you too. Michael's been looking been looking forward to seeing you," she said. _'Michael, michael, michael'_ came the taunting whisper of Embry, although only Leah heard it. Leah sighed, passed even being worried. "It's, uh, nice to meet you?" she offered.

The was snickering in the other room. '_She's trying to be nice,_' someone laughed, possibly Paul. She'd kill them. She'd kill them all.

Shawn nodded. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, you've got be stupid to like my brother, but if you're happy then hey, whatever. Just make sure you abuse him every now and then, otherwise he'll take you for granted."

There was silence.

"I'm not even joking," Shawn said.

Michael's lips pursed as he rolled his eyes, slipping an arm around Leah's shoulders, "You already feel at home" he muttered.

Leah wasn't sure what to think, mouth twitching slightly, unable to decide between smacking the girl or laughing harder than she had in a long time.

* * *

**: l**


End file.
